Press your face
into that rush of wind,
blasting spiraling thoughts,
wing-like,
behind you
Into wild hills
scraped clean by wild wind,
softly traced
along your silhouette--
Sun-kissed cheeks
ache for lush green sky
and trembling silence
breaks your heart
And remakes it
out of glass,
refracting against eternity,
tumbling out of thought
and into perfection.
All meaning
passes
into a single memory
of steel-gray waves
on a thin white beach
and the knowledge
of loss.
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ReplyDeleteHave you ever had a perfect moment? When you lacked absolutely nothing. Knowing that something so beautiful, so perfect existed, can ache within you. It's like having lost a home.
ReplyDeleteI left part of my soul on a clifftop in Ireland. And it will always be there.